Teaching a Wanderer
by 5 Coloured Walker
Summary: I survived the Wasteland, I knew how to fight, but I didn't know how to use my powers... At least not truly in any case. Too bad I chose a school in a city about to be racked by disease, and I have a conscience. Rated T until further notice. Sequel to Beginnings of a Wanderer.


AN: Welcome to the second story in the Wanderer series [The first is Begginings of a Wanderer, currently undergoing rewrite].

You'll notice creative liscence taken with NWN's story beyond E***'s existence. Some of this will be for sense. Some to allow me to avoid playing the game again. Some for story. Some to incorporate other elements of dnd [though not implementing RAW. I'm not that cruel]. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy.

Anyone that knew that adventurers that lived to be successful, or just to old age, were quite pragmatic. Even Paladins, the shining beacons of goodness that they are, often learned how they could bend the rules. This was something that people occasionally forgot when they thought of Lord Nasher, a retired adventurer who ruled over Neverwinter with a gentle hand.

Which is why everyone was surprised when he started a 'Heroes School'.

Most however thought he must be going senile. Heroes can't be trained, they occur. This was something thought even by those that would like it if they could have heroes pop up reliably in one place, instead of spontaneously occurring to foil whatever plan they had for the world. They did admire the Gaes[?] assigned to the heroes for training though, any who trained at the school would be unable to raise a hand against Neverwinter, always acting in it's best interests as they believed… Or under the orders of a select few.

But, no others were established… It's successes were considered too small and it was deemed too costly. It was something that would forever be something that only Neverwinter had, something that would help them when the Wailing Death struck.

But this wasn't then.

This was when someone came from the Prime Material plane noted by those who could access it as 'Dead World 572', those who knew of it noted the world as being modelled after a game, but it was otherwise unremarkable, people occasionally stopped over to grab things, but mostly the world that called itself 'Earth' [one of very many, it itself existing many times over with many slight variations] continued on it's oblivious little path, devoid almost entirely of magic, and content to undergo a slow rebirth.

But of course, even Prime Material could only be applied from select cosmological view points, such as from this the world of Torril, and-

-"You're rambling." I was interrupted.

-"Yes, we know about the insane mess that is planar cosmology, you can get to the relevant bits now." Jason interrupted.

-"Should I skip to the end?" I retorted, annoyed.

-"No, just to your arrival." He rolled his eyes.

-"Fine. I guess learning is what you go to school for."

-XXXX-

Teaching a Wanderer

Chapter 1

Learning to be a Hero

-XXXX-

To my knowledge, the Hero school of Neverwinter was started with the Wailing Death. And so, thinking of schools I might learn at, I thought perhaps that of the game Fable would be best. However when I walked, I chose a rather silly thought to guide my sleep, after all, Monica did say guided dreams did work to transport me.

I chose, 'Take me to where I would have the time to reach my potential, to train my abilities, to become a hero.'

I should have been more specific… I didn't know I was a genie.

It turned out, in all the multiverse, the City of Neverwinter was better, at least, in this version of Torril. And so, I woke in the body of a rather unwell 13 year old boy. Who was quite thankfully human. My mind was hazy and all my senses reported pain, somewhere off in the distance I heard the voice of a crying women… The word mother sprung to mind.

"Please. You have to help him! None of the other churches will I've not the coin, surely even just-"

A hand rested on my forehead.

"… No mere apprentice could cleanse this… You said he had shown some magical talent? And had spoken a riddle shortly before collapsing?"

"Yes! They said he wasn't powerful enough but I've seen it. I'm sure it's just that I lack coin and… Well he's young."

"The riddle?"

"Uh! Oh… Something about Death walking through the streets, the poor and the rich wailing for their loved as a puppeteer twisted it's… I don't know it's not-"

"It is. Trust me, tell me."

I dropped out again, a wave of pain rolling in.

-XXXX-

And rolling out.

I woke, a man's hand was on my brow as he looked at me concerned. He didn't know he had just cured what would be altered to become the Wailing Death, just that whatever afflicted me was magically resistant.

And that he had secured a potential seer, and a powerful mage, for training at the heroes academy.

"Your awake… That'd good… No, stay down, you need to rest, someone will be in soon."

I ceased trying to rise, slowly nodding as I sighed, a sigh that became a yawn, and a yawn that brought me to sleep.


End file.
